Jasper County Democrat, Volume 17, Number 83, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 January 1915 — November Joe [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

November Joe

The Detective of the Woods

By HESKETH PRICHARD

SYNOPSIS. James Quaritch engages November Joe as his guide. Joe and he go to Big Tree portage to investigate the murder of a trapper named Lyon. Joe decides that the murderer followed Lyon to his camp and shot him from a canoe. ' ti By studying woodland evidence and making clever deductions Joe discovers the murderer-, Ilighamson. Lumberman Close reports that Blacktoask, a highvf'&yman, is’robbing his men. Six lumberjacks are robbed by the sanw man. Joe makes a careful examination of the scene Of the robbery. Close is accused by his men, but Joe arrests Chris, one of the lumberjacks, the real robber. I: . - i CHAPTER VII. The “Pink Necker.” JOE sat in silence for some ten minutes after he had gone; then he rqse and began to lead a way ! southeast. "Evans ’ill hear Vai Black’s the iowner of the pink necker at Lavette village. It’s an otter’s to a muskrat’s pelt that then he’ll head straight for Vai's. We've got to be there afore him.” was yet young when we arrived at Vai Black’s. Vai was not at home, but Joe entered the hut aniT'searcheiF It thoroughly. ' U him what he was seeking. “Those skins of Sally’s.’’ “Then you think Black”— - “I think nothing yet. And here’s the man himself, anyway ” He turned to the door as Vai Black came swinging up the trail. He was of middle height, strongly built, with quick eyes and dark hair which, though cropped dose, still betrayed its tendency to curl. He greeted November warmly. .-November was, I thought, even more slow spoken than usual. “Vai,” he said, after some talk, “have you still got that pink necker Sally knitted for you?” “Yes, I’ve got her.” “Where?” “Right here,” and Black pulled the muffler out of his pocket. ' “Huh!” said Joe. There was a silence, rather a strained silence, between the two. Then November continued. “Where was you last night?” Vai looked narrowly at Joe. Joe returned his stare.

“Say, November Joe, are you searching for trouble?” asked Black in an ominously quiet voice. “Seems as if trouble was searching for me,”, replied November. There was another silence.; Then Vai jerked out, “I call your hand.” “I show it,” said Joe. “You’re suspected of robbing Sally’s traps this month back. And you’re suspected of entering Sally’s house last evening and stealing pelts.” With a shout of rage Vai made at Joe. November stood quite still under the grip of the other’s furious hands. “Yoti act innocent, don’t you, you old coyotte!” he grinned ironically. “I never said I suspected you.” Black drew off, looking a little foolish, but he flared up again. “Who is it suspects me?” “Just Evans. And he’s got good evidence. Where was you between 6 and 7 last night?” “In the woods. I come back and slep’ here.’; - ■ “Was you alone?” “Yes.” “Then you can’t prove no alibi.” Joe paused. It was at this moment that Evans, accompanied by two other forest rangers, appeared upon the scene. Quick as lightning he covered Black with his shotgun. - “Up with your hands,” he cried, “or I’ll put this load of birdshot into your face.” Black scowled, but his hands went up. He stood panting. At a sign one of the rangers sidled up, and the click of handcuffs followed. “What am I charged with?” cried Black. “Robbery.” “You’ll pay me for this, Simon Evans!” “It won’t be for awhile—not tjll they let you out again,” retorted the warden easily. “Take him off up the trail. Bill!” The rangers walked away with their prisoner, and Evans turned to Joe. “Guess I have the laugh of you, November,” he said. “Looks that way. Where you takln’ him?” “To Lavette. I’ve sent word to Mrs. Rone to come there tomorrow. And now,” continued Evans, “I’m going to search Black’s shack.” “What for?” “The stolen pelts.” “Got a warrant?” ->

“I’m a warden—don’t need one.” “You’ll not search without it,” said November, moving in front of the door. “Who’ll stop me ?” Evans’ chin shot out doggedly. “I might,” said Joe in his most gentle manner. “I’m in the right, for It’s agin the law, and you know it,' Mr. Evans.” Evans hesitated. “Have it your way, but I’ll be back with my warrant before sunup tomorroiy, and I’m warden, and maybe you'll find it's better to have me for a friend than"— “Huh! Say, Mr. (Juaritclv have you a till of that light baccy o’ yours? I want soothin'.” • ■ As soon us Evans was out of sight, Joe beckoned me to a thick piece of scrub not far from the hut. “Stay right here till I come back. Everything depends on that,” he whispered. I lay down at my ease in a sheltered* spot, and then Joe also took the road for Lavette. Everything appeared to be against Black—the cartridge which fitted his rille, the strands of the tell;, tale neckerchief, the man's own furious behavior, lus manifest passion for Mrs. Rohe, and the suggested motive for the thefts—all these things pointed, conclusively it seemed to me, in one direction. And yet 1 knew that almost from the beginning of the inquiry Noveipber had decided that Black was innocent. . /. The evening turned raw, and the thin snow Was softening, and though I was weary of my watch I was still dreaming when I started under a hand that touched my shoulder. Joe was crouching at my side. He warned me to caution, but I could not refrain from a question as to where he had been. “Down to the store at Lavette,” he whispered. “I was talking- about that search warrant—pretty high handed I said it was, and the boys agreed to that.” After awhile Joe touched me to wake-' fulness, and I saw something moving on the trail below us. A second or two of moonlight gave me a glimpse of the approaching figure of a man, a humped figure that moved swiftly. A whistle. No answer. And Its hand went to the latch. I heard Joe sigh as he covered the man with his rifle. Then can&e his voice in its quiet tones. “Guess the game’s off, Sylvester. Don’t turn! Hands up!” ' Tlfe man stood stllKas we came behind him. At a word he faced round. I saw the high cheek bones and gleaming eyes of an Indian. Ills savage face was contracted with animosity. “Now, Mr. Quaritch,” said November suggestively. I flutter myself I made a neat job of tying up our prisoner. ■‘Thank you. What’s in that bundle on his back?” I opened it Several skins dropped out. Joe examined them. “All got

Sally’s mark on,” be said. “Say, Mr. Quaritch, let me introduce you to a pretty mean thief.” *♦*♦ * . ♦ I noticed that Joe took our prisoner along at a good pace toward Lavette. After a mile or two, however, he asked me to go ahead and if I met with Mrs. Rone to make her wait his arrival, but he added in an aside, “Tell her nothing about Sylvester.” I reached the village soon after dawn, but already the people were gathered at the store, where every one was discussing the case. As I heard nothing of Mrs. Rone, I set out toward her house. When I met her I noticed that her gentle face wore a changed expression. I delivered my message, “I’ll never speak to November again as long as I live!” she said with deep vindictiveness. “November’s played double With me. I’ll show him!” I walked beside her in silence, and just before we came in sight of the houses we met with Joe alone. He had evidently left Sylvester in safe custody. Joe glanced from Sally to me. .1 read understanding in his eyes. “We’ve got him trapped safe, Sally. Not a hole for him to slip out by.” Sally’s rage broke from her control. “You’re just too cute, November Joe,” she blazed, “with your tracking and finding out things and putting Vat in

jam vvnat ao you say to it that I’ve been fooling you all the time? I never lost no pelts! I only said it to get the laugh against ye. Ye was beginning to believe ye could hear the muskrats sneezing!” “Is that so?” inquired Joe gently. “Yes, and I'm going into Lavette this minute to tell them!” Joe stepped in front of her. .“Just as yoft like, Sally. But how'll ye explain these?" lie (lung epep the bundle of skins he carried. f Mrs. Rone,turned color. “Where did ye linxl them?" she gasped. "On his back.” £he hesitated (a moment, then, “I gave Vai that lot,” she said carelessly. “That's queer, now,” said Joe, “cos it was, on Injin Sylvester I found them.” ■ ■ T ; Sally stared at Joe, then laughed "suddenly, excitedly. “Oh, Joe, yb'u’te sure the cutest man ever made in this world!" Ami with that she Hung her arms round Ids peek and kissed him. “I'd best pass that on to Vai Black!” said Joe calmly. And Sally's blushes were: prettier than you could believe. There is no need for me to tell how' Black was liberated from the hands of the crestfallen Evans, who was as nonplussed as I myself had been at the breakdown of the ease, which up to the lastmoment had on the face of it seemed indestructible. I have never looked forward to any explanation more than that which November gave to Mrs. Kone, Black and myself the same evening. “It was the .carcass of Klzpah give me the first start,” said Joe. “As soon as I saw that I knew it weren't Vai.” “Why?” asked Sally. “You remember it was hacked up? Now here was the case up to that: A thief had robbed Sally, and all the sign he left behind was a few threads of his necker and an English made cartridge. The thief goes out, and old Rizpah attacks him. lie shoots her. Then he cuts her body nigh to pieces. Why?” We all shook our heads. “Because he wants to get his bullet out of her. And why does he want to get his bullet? Only one possible reason. Because it's different to the bullet he dropped on purpose in the house.” ' s “By Jove!" I cried. “From that it all fits in It seems runny tnat the inlet should drop a cartridge, funnier still that he should not notice he’d left a bit of ids necker stuck to the nails on. the door. Still, I'd allow them two tilings might happen. But when it camq to his having more bits of ids necker torn off by the spruces where Evans found them, It looked like as if the thief was a mighty poor woodsman. Which he wasn’t. He hid Ids tracks good and cunning. After that I guessed 1 was on the right scent, blit 1 wasn’t plumb sure till I come up to the place where he killed the partridge. While he was snaring it lie rested his rifle ag’ln a tree. I saw the mark of the butt on the ground and the scratch from the foresight upon the bark. Then 1 knew he didn’t carry no English rifle.” “How did you know?” asked Sally. “I could measure its length agin the tree. It was nigh a foot shorter than an English rifle.” * Vai’s fist came down on the table. “Bully for you, Joe!” “Well, now, there was one more thing. Besides that black fox, Sally here missed other marked pelts. They wasn’t much value. Why did the thief take them? Again only one reason. He wanted ’em for making more false evidence agin Vai.” , lie paused. “Go on, Joe,” cried Mrs. Kone impatiently. “When Mr. Quarltch and I camo to Vai’s shack we searched It. Nothing there. Why? Cos Vol had been home all night and Sylvester couldn’t get in without wakin’ him.” “But,” said I, “wasn’t there a good case against Black without that?” “Yes. there was a case, but his conviction wasn’t an absolute cinch, On the other hand, if the stolen skins was found hid In his shack— That’s why you had to lie in that brush so long, Mr. Quarltch, while I went in to Lavette and spread, it around that the shack hadn’t been searched by Evans. Sylvester was at the store, and he fell into the trap right enough. We waited for him, and we got him.” “O’ course,” continued Joe, “revenge on Vai weren’t Sylvester’s only game. He meant robbin’ Sally,-Xqo, and had his plan laid. He must ’a' gone to Vai’s and stole a cartridge and the bits of necker before he robbed Sally's house. Last night he started out to leave a few cheap pelts at Vai’s, but he had the black fox skin Separate in his pack with a bit o’ tea and flour and tobacco, so if we hadn’t took him he’d have lit out into Maine an’ sold the black fox pelt there.” “But why should Sylvester have such a down on Vai?” Joe laughed. “Ask Vail” “Ten years ago,” said Vai, “when we was both rising twenty year, I gave Sylvester a thrashing he’d likely remember. He had a dog what weren’t no use, and be decided to shoot It. So he did, but he didn’t kill IL He shot it far back and left it in the woods, and 1 come along”— “The brute!” exclaimed Sally. “He’s a dangerous Injin,” said November, “and he’s of a breed that never forgets.” “When he gets out of prison you’ll have to keep awake, Joe,” said Vai. “When he gets out I’ll have the snow in my hair all right and you and Sally will be old married folks,” retorted Joe. “You’ll sure be tired of each other by then.” * 1 Sally looked at Vai, and Joe caught the look. “Leastways,” he added, “you’ll pretend you are better*n you do now.” We all laughed. (TO BE CONTINUED.) .

“Guess the game’s off. Don’t turn! Hands up!”